


Never Happened

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life [37]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: What happens here, never happened ...





	

The trek across Arizona and into New Mexico was uneventful. Scully made it five hours before she needed a break and the world’s largest collection of soda and beer cans afforded them that. Mulder, eagle eye that he was, spotted the tiny sign under the larger sign announcing the new golf course and country club at the next exit. Not giving a shit about golf in the slightest, he was all over the can collection like, as he put it, Langley was on an old-school Nintendo game.

“I love when I understand a gaming reference.”

“You played Nintendo? Be still my heart.”

A toothy grin appeared as she took the exit ramp, “Charlie and I would play tournaments on my weekends home. I attribute my ability to shoot so well to ‘Duck Hunt’.”

“Are you sure you won’t marry me? I mean, there’s gotta be some little, white, no questions asked chapel around here somewhere.”

“Maybe I’ll show you my thumb action if you ask me nicely.” His mouth dropped open and she caught his look in the rearview mirror. Laughing in delight, “I made you speechless. Today is a red-letter day.”

“Shhh, picturing thumb action.”

“Super Mario Brothers?”

“Contra.”

“Well, now you’re going to make me go speechless.”

Mulder dropped against the seat, hand to his heart, “dying here, partner.”

“Oh no you don’t. We are going to see an ineffable amount of ancient aluminum pull-tab cans. Get out of the car, Mulder.”

They got out, they strolled the converted barn looking at cans for nearly two hours and in the end, Scully had to admit she was impressed. Mulder nudged her as best he could, “now that’s the stuff I was talking about.”

“That was the stuff?”

“That was the stuff.”

Coming in closer, she reached out to play with the loose hem of his t-shirt, Mulder grinning at the sheer proximity, his eyes closing of their own volition, swaying forward towards her as if magnetized, “how about we find ourselves a hotel and maybe take a nap, get some dinner, find some way to occupy ourselves?”

Mulder heard a buzzing sound, then realized he had forgotten to breath. It didn’t help any that she was now within fractions of an inch of him and taking in a gulp of air, “and how were you thinking we could occupy ourselves?”

“I bet you there’s an arcade somewhere in the greater Albuquerque area.”

“Don’t tease, Agent Scully.”

“Play you to 100,000 points on Pac-Man and we’ll follow it up with a Galaxian tournament, loser treats to midnight tacos.”

Leaning forward on his crutches, he dropped his head to her shoulder, “that is possibly one of the greatest things a man can ever hear.”

&&&&&&&&&

They found the hotel, they took the nap, they ate the dinner, then they passed the night at the arcade. Neither one of them made reference to Oswald until they were out in the parking lot, sitting on the tailgate of the Jeep and watching the sun come up over the closed down strip mall curving around them. “Should I bring up the lightning kid?”

“No. No, you should not. I am having a thoroughly good time and I do not want to think about that boy and his lightning bolts.”

“That was dirty.” She pushed him lightly and he rolled sideways, then rolled back, bumping her shoulder, “what? It was. You can’t comment on a man’s lightning bolts innocently.”

“Shut up, Mulder and enjoy the sunrise, would you?”

He grinned, then without hesitation, covered her hand with his, pulling it onto his lap, encasing it between his palms, “and then I will take you out for a taco breakfast.”

“Breakfast burritos at the greasiest diner we can find?”

“Anything for you.”

After breakfast, they went back to the hotel to shower, although Mulder still needed the sponge variety, given his new stitches. Once those tasks were complete, they checked out, running now on sugar packets they’d stolen from the diner, the extra black beans in the burritos and the handful of Laffy Taffy Scully bought at the gas station as they left town.

Mulder figured they’d continue East but when Scully turned South, his head perked up, the sun suddenly shifting enough to make him realize their direction. “Scully?”

“Yes, Mulder?”

“Oh, my dear Scully.”

“Yes, Mulder?”

“Oh, my wonderful, dear, sweet Scully, are we going where I think we’re going?”

“Where do you think we’re going, Mulder?”

“To my mecca of the West. To my asylum from the crazies of DC. To my people.” Just then, they passed a mundane green freeway distance sign and the holy of holies stood out over all others for Mulder’s shining eyes, “to Roswell.”

“Can you feel them calling you?”

“I can.” Rolling down the window, the hot air poured into the car, “I can smell the Reticulans from here. Drive faster, woman, drive faster!”

Laughing, she drove them on, getting them to Roswell in one piece and stopping at a Motel 6, which, Scully pointed out from the brochures in the lobby, was close to the International UFO Museum.

He wondered if he should seriously just get down on his good knee and take care of business, seal the deal, make an honest woman of the honest woman she still was.

Instead, they crashed hard on the lumpy mattress, Mulder bouncing accidently, jarring his leg but keeping his swearing silent as Scully settled beside him, asking in a voice nearly asleep already, “happy very early or very late birthday present, Mulder.”

Turning on his side, he slid his arm around her waist then scooted her back against him as best he could, “thank you.”

Hiding her smile in the pillow, she shut her eyes, drifting off warm and content.

&&&&&&&&&

They spent the next day wandering, which Mulder survived with four Ibuprophen and the beautiful woman at his side who was wearing the t-shirt he proudly bought her in the first store they passed, her chest now stating emphatically that ‘Whatever happens in Roswell, DID NOT HAPPEN!’

She changed into it immediately in an alley, Mulder turned around blocking what traffic might pass. Three seconds later, she stuffed her regular top in his backpack, “ready to go.”

Later that night, back in their seedy hotel, lights off, darkness pressing down but comfortably so, Mulder had his leg propped up, the swelling of the day making it ache, “is this heaven, Scully?”

“It’s Roswell, Mulder.”

Smiling at the memory of his day, “I could have sworn it was heaven.”

“Next vacation, I’ll take you from Cooperstown to Dyersville and as long as you don’t break yourself in between, I’ll play second base for you.”

“Second base is a dangerous thing to mention right now, partner.”

Scooting her butt back against his hip, his hand drifted over her thigh, settling just above her waist, hand fully on bare skin, “I’ve always enjoyed second base, Mulder.”

He squeezed her, savoring soft skin and radiating heat, “good night, Scully.”


End file.
